Shinigami
by SlayerEmma
Summary: The Secret Lives of the London Shinigami. Elliot Alexander, the newest of the London shinigami, has a talent for uncovering past secrets held by his fellow co-workers. In his first few weeks of training, he discovers more about the reapers than they may know about themselves.
1. Assignments

"Payne, section A-652. Johns, section D-8257. Wilson, H-512." I took a shaky breath as I clutched the clipboard close to my chest, eyes fixed on the man in front. With each assignment given, a sigh of relief was heard, footsteps, and then the door slam. This was the most important part of any graduation; discovering where we'd be going to work. The announcer's voice crept along, his face completely stoic, hidden behind a pair of square spectacles. I wiggled my nose, aware of my own glasses, a Harry Potter-style frame with yellow glass. "It'll grow on ya," the glass-maker said, but even after a few weeks, I still haven't adjusted. I wasn't allowed to complain. Glasses, as every reaper knew, were the most important tool to have. Even more important than a death scythe, and that was made very clear at orientation. I listened closely as more names were called, and more trainees left the room. "Turner, section R-83." Another man turned away from the line up and ran out. I held my breath, remembering days of dodgeball in the courtyard at school. Always the last. Always. "Evans..." the announcer pushed up his glasses, "section Y-9834. That is the end of my list." The man stepped down from his pedestal as Evans quickly left. He either didn't notice me, or I had forgotten to listen for my name. I felt my face grow red as I realized the latter was probably true. "Er, sir," I said quietly. He didn't answer. I took a step towards him cautiously. "Sir-" "Honestly," he said. "Yes. I know you're still there. Step forward." I took a step until we were face-to-face, or, face-to-chin. The dark-haired man was well over my height. "Sir?" I asked again. "The name is William T. Spears, and you will refer to me as so." I nodded. "Your name?" "Oh, Alexander, sir. Elliot Alexander." "Well, Mister Alexander," he said, pushing up his glasses and taking the clipboard from my arms, "it looks like you will be part of my group. The London dispatch. We've been needing another member since-" Mr. Spears suddenly caught himself, looking up with a sigh. "Hurry up, we haven't all day." He picked up his scythe from the wall, a long hedge clipper, and started for the door. I followed him down the hallway. "Now, I could let you choose your assignment, or simply pair you with Mister Sutcliff," his voice trailed off. "Mister who?" He sighed. The rest of the walk was silent. We passed room after room, windows showing the reapers inside to be slumped over their desks in sleep. It must've been close to midnight, I remembered. Finally, he stopped and unlocked a door, marked L-0406. The office was plain, boring, much like the personality of said William. A simple desk and chair sat in the corner, next to a bookshelf with less books than shelves. "And this," he said, "will be your office." He placed the clipboard square on the desk and looked back at me. "Hm?" "Thank you," I answered. "Yes, and your rooming assignment, let's see." He rested his hand on the bridge of his nose and let out another sigh. "I could, perhaps, pair you with Knox, though he might already have a partner." "That's fine, sir." "Your teacher is Mr. Erik Slingby. That's already decided." A slight smile formed on his lips. "Well, Alexander... let me be the first to welcome you to the shinigami family." 


	2. Knox Knocks

London Shinigami Dispatch is different than the other dispatches... First off, there's William, almost like a mother to the group, telling us what we can and cannot do, scolding us when someone decides to make a mistake. Then, Mister- Missus? - Grell Sutcliff. She's... interesting, I'll leave it at that. Ronald and Erik seem like close friends; it's difficult to find one without the other; and Alan is always locked in his office, doing something for the boss. Then there's me. Knox and Mister Slingby keep a close eye on me, almost like they're protecting me from something. I've questioned them several times on it, yet it's always the same conversation: "Ye remember bein' a wee trainin' reaper, Slingby?" "Aye, yet' yer still one yerself, Ron..." "Am not!" "Are t'!" They'll go back and forth until I speak up. I find it hard to tell myself speak out of line. My mother always told me to keep my place, and I believe that's what Spears would want, too. No one gave me any jobs, no missions, no paperwork. "Just stay out of trouble and watch your tutor," they said, which is exactly what I did. The other shinigami would treat me like a child. Three weeks into life as a reaper, and I was already Grell's "Boo-Boo Baby." Ronald was the only one who would speak to me out of working. He'd often break into my office during lunch break, lighting up a cigarette and placing his feet onto my desk like he owned the place. At every one of these encounters, I'd start, "Mister Knox, could you..." and he'd shout back, "Not t' lunch is out!" So, we would share that hour in silence, eating from boxes and then smoking until William came to collect us. Ronald would get the desk, I would get the floor, and not a complaint was heard. "Gods, Erik's such an arse," he said one day, "I mean, I love 'im, but, gods..." I nodded. "Wanna hear what 'e said t' me today?!" "Not particularly, sir, but knowing you'll-" "Fledglin'. Ya know what that means? It's what they call babe angels. Wit' the wings, an' halo and shit. Gods." He angrily took another puff of his cigarette. "Then 'e goes an writes it under my name... like I'm a baby angel er somethin'... We're reapers, Elliot!" "I don't believe I un'erstand, sir." He sighed. "Quit calling me sir all the time, kid. It's Ron." The blonde shinigami lifted his chin, as if thinking, then said, "It's a bit an insult. To call a fledglin'." "I'm sorry, Ron." "Don't be." I dropped my head. "Aye, kid... you've got a lot t' learn bout here... You're still new, yeah? You probably think I'm one o' them oldies. Not really. I'm seventeen." "Sir?" "Ron," he corrected. "Oh, yes, ah, Ron? Seventeen?" He moved his feet off the desk and leaned into my face. "How old do I look t' you, kid?" "Like a baby, sir." His reaction was non-existent. He shrugged and said, "I should tell you a bit of a story. Just so you understand what it's like 'round here. "You see, kid, we've all lost something. Someone. Hell, I bet you have a rough gettin' here, too." "Saved my mother from a train." "Yeah, that's cute." A wave of anger flooded over me. I bit my tongue, trying to hold back the distasteful words waiting to spill from my mouth. He couldn't have just pushed that off, so casually, as if everyone dies- Everyone dies. I don't know why this was such a huge realization to me. Humans are born; they live; they die; and the few are chosen to become shinigami. "Hey, kid, sorry 'bout your mum... I didn't mean it t' hurt ya, I swear." I nodded softly. "You give your life for her?" Once more, I nodded. "I'm... really sorry, kid. I don' really know what it's like, 'cause I never really had a mum, ya see? It was kinda just me and me pop growin' up, and brothers, and th' twins, and those two older girls..." He paused and made a motion through the air as if counting them. "Yeah, three girls- I think one o' them was older, 'cause she left the home 'fore me. That was my family, though I can't say they ever loved me. I was small and sick and just a loser of a kid, like you." "Oh." "Somehow I made it t' the dispatch. I think it was William. He's always been... Anyway, I don't like this place. I n'ver had a life, unlike you. You must've had fun when you was human, all alive, all dancing, right?" "Y-" "Yes, ye did. Don't interrupt me yet, please? So you have fun life, partying, living, going all out an' all that, while I'm stuck at this borin' place with Spears searching over me shoulder!" He kicked the desk in anger. "You see now, kid?! "I-" "Not finished yet." Ron stood up and brushed off his pants. He glanced at the clock quickly, swearing, then turned back to me. "You've ever been in love? Don't answer that, I'm sure you'll say something wrong again." Actually, I wanted to say, I haven't said anything at all. "You've got me thinking of Celia again. She was human. She's dead now. That's all you need to know. Now, Elliot, if you'll excuse me, I have someone to speak to." He dropped his cigarette into the trash basket and promptly left the office. 


End file.
